


Heaven Is A Place On Earth

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt Sam Winchester, dean and castiel are mentioned also they're in love but this isn't about them, reader is an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You don’t want to tell Sam that you’ve been having conversations with Castiel in secret, asking about the logistics of an interspecies relationship.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 19





	Heaven Is A Place On Earth

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this,,, so long ago and it's been sitting on my computer for months because i didn't even want to write it anymore, but i liked the idea of it, but i reallyyyy didn't like how i wrote it, but i can't think of any other way of writing this?? but the only thing worse than writing something you don't like is writing something and having it haunt you for months,,,  
> so,, uhh, here ya go?  
> idk it's pretty dry (in my professional opinion) but maybe someone will like it?? hopefully??

Humans are stubborn by nature.

They always have their minds set on something, especially when they know it won’t turn out well for them.

Sam Winchester is human, and unfortunately, he’s the pinnacle of stubborness. He took a bullet to the shoulder less than a week ago, and here he is, going out on more hunts and tearing his stitches.

“I knew this was going to happen.” You cut off the old bandages, toss them in the trash, and take a moment to evaluate the wound. It’s not terrible, but it definitely isn’t good. Nearly half of his stitches came loose, and now it’s your job to fix that. “You should have let me heal you before you left.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

There he goes again, disregarding his well being for the sake of a hunt. Humans are creatures so fond of free will, but time and time again, they continue to put themselves into dangerous situations. You’ll never understand it.

“I believe I’ll be the judge of that.”

Sam shakes his head and laughs under his breath. “I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t waste your grace on something like this.”

“It isn’t a waste if it keeps you from getting hurt again.”

*

You douse a cloth in whiskey and clean away the blood staining his shoulder. You wipe too close to the wound and instinctively, Sam flinches away from your touch. “Sorry,” you apologize, both for what happened and what you’re about to do. You set the cloth down and pour whiskey over his shoulder to kill any lingering bacteria.

“It’s fine,” he says through gritted teeth before adjusting to the pain. He untenses and releases a breath. “I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

That’s an interesting thing to say, considering you tried to kill him when you first met.

*

When you fell from Heaven, you knew you had to avoid two things if you wanted to continue living— angels and hunters. All you had to do was keep a low profile and avoid anything remotely supernatural.

It seemed easy enough.

And it was. Until you learned about the series of angel murders in your area.

You worried yourself into a panic. You kept to your house, you kept your blinds shut tight, and you jumped at any sounds you couldn’t quite explain. So when Castiel showed up at your door one day with the Winchesters in tow, it was only natural that you immediately went on the defense.

Which is really just another way of saying you almost killed Sam.

Dean was moments away from shooting you when Sam recognized the terror in your eyes and defused the situation. He calmed you down long enough to disarm you of your angel blade, finally giving Castiel a chance to explain why they came. They were investigating the murders, and when he was close enough to recognize your grace, he thought it would be best to brief you on the situation.

*

The killer was one of your siblings. 

A disillusioned angel who convinced himself that he could regain his wings if he consumed enough grace. He was making his way through the county, and Castiel worried that he was coming for you next. You appreciated the concern and quickly made plans to uproot your little life somewhere else.

But even with Castiel’s forewarning, you were still caught off guard and ambushed later that night. Jophiel— you instantly recognized him— he slashed you across the stomach with his blade and didn’t waste time before backing you against a wall and doing the same with your throat. The blue aura of your grace shone through your injuries and your eyes lit up in the same way— a sign of distress as he drained you of your life force.

But luckily, Sam Winchester came to your rescue. He pulled him away and gave Dean opportunity to shoot him with a bullet melted down from an angel blade.

You owe your life to the Winchesters, and of course, your brother Castiel. They were even kind enough to let you stay with them. It took some time for your injuries to fully heal, as your grace was partially devoured, but now you’re just waiting to be back at full strength again.

*

“You’re quiet,” Sam says, breaking the silence. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m focusing on your sutures.” You have one hand on his shoulder to hold him still, the other working carefully to weave the curved needle through his skin. “I read they heal better when they’re relatively even. Does it hurt?”

“Not really. I’m used to it by now.”

There  _ is  _ something else on your mind, but you can’t decide whether or not to mention it. You’ve been thinking it over for quite a while, but is this the time to bring it up? Right now? While you’re in Sam’s room with him, tending to his injuries?

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending how you look at it), the words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to overthink any further.

“Castiel and Dean are in a romantic relationship,” you say, hesitancy hanging in the air.

“Yeah, they’ve been together for a while.” Sam pauses. “Why do you bring it up?”

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been having conversations with Castiel in secret, asking about the logistics of an interspecies relationship.

You don’t want to tell him that before he and Dean left for this last hunt, you saw Dean kiss Castiel, and felt something  _ painful _ building in your chest from the sight.

You don’t want to tell him that you had no idea what was happening to you, until Castiel pulled you aside and took the time to explain it to you.

Angels don’t feel, at least not in the way humans do. They weren’t created to have emotions, so their ability to  _ feel _ is an imperfect substitution for the real, human sensation. When Castiel began to feel romantic desire for Dean, it manifested as a tightness in his chest that refused to go away.

_ “The only way I relieved the discomfort was by acting on my feelings.” _

But even now, when you’re alone with Sam, you’re hesitant to do the same. This is how nephilim are created. Angels lose their way and fall for humans, and they create an enemy of Heaven in the process.

Castiel, of course, tried to ease your concern once you voiced it to him.

_ “If it’s of any comfort, there are no known cases of nephilim with human fathers. I assume the angel’s grace is too strong, and effectively renders the human sperm useless.” _

There are so many things you don’t want to tell Sam. But at the same time, those things are on the very tip of your tongue and you want to say them so,  _ so  _ badly.

Which brings you to where you are now.

“Heaven treated interspecies relationships as a criminal offense.” You’ve finished with the sutures, now taking a moment to admire Sam’s back muscles, appreciating and tracing over them with your eyes. “Now that I’ve seen one… up close, I don’t find much wrong with it.” Your chest seizes and grips your breath with an impossible tightness.

“It’s because of the nephilim, right?”

“Right.” You push through the pain and force a breath into your lungs. You take the roll of bandages and wrap them around his shoulder, taking care to be gentle with the injury. “But nephilim can only be born of human mothers. Relationships between angels and human males are… exempt from this concern.”

A tense silence settles between the two of you, and you worry that you’ve said something wrong. So you quickly finish with Sam’s bandages and secure them in place.

“There we go. All done.” You take your eyes off him and start cleaning up your supplies, sighing in relief when the discomfort in your chest lets up.

Sam gets up off the bed and rolls his shoulder a few times to adjust to the feeling.

You can see him in your peripheral vision and you roll your eyes. “You better not bleed through those again. Not after I took the time to redo them for you.”

Sam laughs under his breath, and it’s a warm sound that can put you in the best of moods. “I’ll try not to.” He walks over to you, still shirtless, still just as gorgeous as always, and you have to fight to keep your attention on your task. “Thanks for this, by the way. You’re always helping me out, and it’s really nice to have someone worrying about me.”

And it’s back.

The pain is back in full force, your chest contracting so hard that the wind is knocked out of you. Your hand flinches to your chest, and Sam makes a quick move to catch you before you lose your balance.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” There’s concern laced in his words, and you shake your head to ease his worry.

“It’s nothing. I just—” You flinch again. “It’s an angel thing.”

Even in his injured, just-got-stitches-for-a-recent-bullet wound state, Sam doesn’t hesitate to help you to his bed and sit you down. You steady your breathing with deep breaths, and eventually, the pain fades a bit, and you visibly relax.

He rubs circles into your back and has his other hand resting encouragingly on top of yours. “Better?”

You nod. “Better.”

Sam visibly relaxes as well, but he doesn’t move away from you. “What was that?”

“For some angels, strong emotions manifest as physical pain,” you explain. “It’s interesting, really. We were made to be our father’s perfect creations, but we’re just as flawed as everything else.”

“What were you feeling?”

Well, you definitely didn’t expect to get here today. But you suppose there’s no use in keeping it bottled up any longer. You bite your lip, and throw caution to the wind, and make the decision to answer his question with another question. “Do you find my vessel physically attractive?”

Sam pauses, and you feel your heart sink as he shifts his position so he’s no longer touching you.

But then you realize it’s so he can see you better.

“Of course I do. You’re beautiful.” He looks you in the eye as he says it, and his words are soaked in certainty, catching you so off guard that all you can manage as a response is—

“Oh.”

Great job.

And now it’s your turn to pause, searching for something,  _ anything  _ to say to fill the lingering silence.

“I find you attractive as well,” you say, as if it weren’t obvious. “Which is strange, because I used to view humans as nothing more than a collection of cells and molecules. You’re a very pleasant collection of cells.”

Sam laughs, but instead of tightening, your chest releases some of its pressure. “So that emotion you were feeling was…”

“Desire, I believe.”

“Well, what do you want to do about that?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t expect to get this far.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question hangs in the air, and you find yourself nodding enthusiastically to Sam’s proposition. “You may.”

And he does.

“You may do it again.”

His hand on your cheek and just under your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly. The way his lips brush against yours, almost hesitantly, as he gives you opportunity to pull away, if you’ve changed your mind and decided to back out. The taste of his lips,  _ god, the taste of his lips. _

You could get addicted to it.

And it’s not until later, that you realize that the pain in your chest is nowhere to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> you can tell that i don’t really like this fic because i literally made a pseud on my side account just so i could post it.  
> thanks for reading?


End file.
